


Inny Sticky Turny Clicky

by virusq



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Angry Kissing, Canon-Typical Behavior, Cigarettes, Explicit Language, Handcuffs, Light Bondage, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Predicament Bondage, Rough Kissing, lockpicking lessons, sharing cigarettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28138410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virusq/pseuds/virusq
Summary: “Shush.” Lupin pulls a collar-stay from the collar of his undershirt. He pinches the small piece of metal between his long fingers and proffers it to Jigen, at arm’s length. “It’s dangerous to go alone, take this.”With a curse, Jigen swipes the pick from Lupin’s grasp.“Okay. Four easy steps: Inny, sticky, turny, clicky.”“For cryin’ out loud,” Jigen grumbles.“Take your time,” Lupin coaxes, taking another drag from the cigarette and holding it up as an offering. “You’re not being shot at. Or chased. Or stared down by a disarmingly handsome thief, in a secluded alley, that knows his way around a pair of handcuffs.”Jigen drops the pick.Lupin holds out another collar-stay with a tired smile. “I’ve got all night, baby.”
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III
Comments: 11
Kudos: 57
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Inny Sticky Turny Clicky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dytabytes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dytabytes/gifts).



> "I think that these two lend themselves to hijinks in bed, maybe some terrible roleplay or losing the keys to the sexy handcuffs and having to pick them unlocked?"
> 
> For dytabytes, whose prompt single-handedly fueled four other fics this year.

When Lupin meets him at the designated rendezvous, he’s in a hurry. “Hey, be a pal, and take care of these?” Lupin turns his back to Jigen and shrugs his shoulders.

Jigen puts his hand on his Magnum and tenses, waiting for the inevitable throng of thugs to chase his partner around the corner.

“Jigen?”

Jigen peaks around the corner, his shoulder scraping against the brownstone building. There are thugs chasing Lupin. A fair number more thugs than he’d expected. More thugs than he has bullets. “Christ, Lupin!”

“Little help?”

Jigen feels Lupin rub his hands against his back and his spine stiffens. He pivots away from the wall and the thief and stares at the offending limbs. They’re handcuffed behind the man’s back.

“What the fuck?”

“I dropped the key climbing out the car window.”

Jigen feels his neck flame. He’s a marksman, not a lockpick. He’s always depended on Lupin to pick his own goddamn locks. “I…”

“Jigen,” Lupin mewls in his flirtatious lilt. He wiggles his hips, his hands bobbing above his ass. “This is hardly the time to admire the view.”

Gunshots crack down the alley, the tinny plink-plink of bullets hitting the brownstone wall far too close for comfort. Jigen lobs the skinny thief over a shoulder with one arm and pins down his hat with another. If he starts running now, they can get back to the car before their pursuers round the corner.

“Ow, ow, wait! Jigen,” Lupin protests, his hands awkwardly behind his back and his chest thumping against the gunman’s back in a jarring bob, “Jigen, this is not part of the plan!”

“New plan!” Jigen drops Lupin bodily into the back seat of the car, thanking his lucky stars they chose a convertible this time, and leaps into the driver’s seat.

“Jigen!” Lupin’s voice is muffled against the seat as he worms himself securely into the car. “You have got to be joking!”

Jigen grits his teeth as the engine turns and he shifts the car into gear. He pulls the car into drive as fast as humanly possible and peels into arterial traffic.

He checks the mirrors while keeping his eyes on the road. Weaving in and out of traffic while watching for a tail demands every ounce of his attention. Lupin’s chin digs into his shoulder and he startles like a cat, almost swerving into oncoming traffic. “Pull over, I’m teaching you how to pick locks!”

“Sure,” Jigen’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel. He can feel the tension ache in his arms and shoulders. This was not the cleanest escape. “Let me just pull a new car out of my ass while I’m at it.”

“You’re the worst!”

* * *

Jigen fishes his lighter out of his pocket and lights his cigarette. He takes a centering drag and hooks his thumb in his pocket, leaning back against the side of the car. The metal is still sun-warm even in the bracing shadow of the storm drain.

Lupin drapes his legs over the car door and continues forward with the mechanical grace of a Slinky. His feet tap against the concrete and he rubs his wrists.

Lupin stares accusingly at Jigen with wide, curious eyes. “Jesus, man. How is it even possible you haven’t had to pick open cuffs ‘til now?”

Jigen shrugs, not granting the man the satisfaction of eye contact.

“There’s only one way to fix this,” Lupin proposes. “Do you have a light?”

Jigen pats his pocket for the lighter and something metal slips around his wrist. _Snap-zip_. “Ah, fuck you, Lupin.”

Lupin giggles as Jigen jerks his hand away from his pocket sharply. He expects Lupin’s wrist to be attached to the other end of the cuffs and is sorely disappointed. The motion tugs the slim cuff against his wrist as metal slides against metal: he’s been handcuffed to the door handle. “How the hell…?”

Lupin plucks the cigarette from Jigen’s lips and takes a drag. He sits back and admires his work with the contained enthusiasm of a jack-in-the-box.

“Alright, we’re gonna do this just like gramps taught me.” Lupin slowly exhales a cloud of smoke and pulls his jacket off, settling in for a long session.

Jigen’s face cracks with a frown. “I do not have time for this.”

“Shush.” Lupin pulls a collar-stay from the collar of his undershirt. He pinches the small piece of metal between his long fingers and proffers it to Jigen, at arm’s length. “It’s dangerous to go alone, take this.”

Jigen stares at the madman, who waits a moment and wiggles his fingers to make the sliver of aluminum more appealing, like a fisherman baiting a trout.

With a curse, Jigen swipes the pick from Lupin’s grasp.

Lupin smiles. “Okay. Four easy steps: Inny, sticky, turny, clicky.”

“For cryin’ out loud,” Jigen grumbles.

Lupin cackles. “Inny, sticky, turny, clicky.”

“Fuck.”

Lupin tucks his hands in his pants pockets and hunches his shoulders, intently watching Jigen fumble with the pick while rocking on his heels.

The collar-stay is long, thin, and flexible, like the bastard child of a plectrum and a tongue depressor. It barely fits in the keyhole of the metal cuffs and isn’t even remotely the right shape. A small metal peg in the round keyhole bars the pick from free movement and Jigen curses as he wiggles the pick.

“Take your time,” Lupin coaxes, taking another drag from the cigarette and holding it up as an offering. “You’re not being shot at. Or chased. Or stared down by a disarmingly handsome thief, in a secluded alley, that knows his way around a pair of handcuffs.”

Jigen drops the pick. It’s impossible to manipulate the stupid piece of metal with sweaty fingers. He tugs sharply against the car door out of pure frustration. Briefly, just briefly, he contemplates shooting the chain between the cuffs off. 

Lupin holds out another collar-stay with a tired smile. “I’ve got all night, baby.”

* * *

They're on a stakeout, camping out on a balcony with a clear view of the museum, two weeks later. It's night, almost day, and Jigen's down to his last cigarette.

He's been going through his smokes faster, this trip. Something about the job has him on edge and the incessant _snap-zip, snap-zip, snap-zip_ of the handcuffs Lupin's been toying with haven't helped.

Jigen peels his eyes from his binoculars and serves Lupin a steel-edged stare that could give the Zantetsuken a run for its money. "Knock it off already."

Lupin's attention span is elsewhere. His head tilts toward Jigen as he snaps the cuffs again and again. "Knock who, buddy?"

Jigen can't help himself. His hand reaches out and closes on Lupin's, ceasing the movement of the cuffs. "Just stop."

Lupin grins wickedly. Jigen knows he's pushed the wrong button the second the man's teeth flash. It happens so fast, he doesn't have time to curse: both cold metal cuffs are bound around his wrist, Lupin's wrist locked to his between the chain. 

"Whoops! Clumsy me," Lupin lies. "It's a good thing you've been practicing your lockpicking skills, right?"

Jigen pins him to the deck furniture with an irate stare.

"You have been practicing, right Jigen?"

"Fuck you, Lupin."

"I mean, that is an option," Lupin teases, batting his eyelashes at his partner.

Jigen exhales slowly, his nostrils flaring with the effort. He counts to ten and unclenches his jaw. "Give me the pick."

"You didn't say the magic words."

"I swear to God, Lupin." Jigen holds out his open hand, palm up. "Give me the goddamn pick."

Lupin presses a collar-stay into Jigen's hand, with a giggle.

Jigen closes his fist, half expecting the thief to slip another set of handcuffs on his wrist. The metal stick is warm in his palm and blunt around the edges. He can't imagine what good the stays are, outside of holding up collars. They're terrible picks.

He rolls the pick between his fingers and gets to work, fidgeting with the keyhole on the top cuff. It'd be far less stressful if Lupin didn't have his chin cupped in his handcuffed hand, centimeters from the keyhole.

His brown eyes dance, watching every twist, every micro-movement. Lupin's ever-present glee is, at best, maddening and currently very, very distracting.

"You have to say the magic words," he teases.

"Abso-fucking-lutely not."

"It helps, I promise."

"No."

"You forgot them, didn't you," Lupin accuses.

"You can take your licky-clicky bullshit and stick it up your --" The lock clicks open and Jigen's thought remains incomplete. One cuff free relieves him of the immediate proximity to Lupin. Jigen pulls away from the thief before the man can trap him any further. 

"See? Magic words."

Jigen leans back and picks the lock on the second cuff in a fraction of the time. The handcuffs drop to the balcony and he kicks them, lobbing them past the balcony railing and out into the street.

"Hey! Good job, Jigen," Lupin congratulates enthusiastically. "Now do it again."

"Absolutely not." Jigen flings the collar-stay at Lupin's head. It makes a soft impact against Lupin's shoulder and drops into his breast pocket.

"You sure about that, buddy?" Lupin giggles and the pit of Jigen's stomach churns as he realizes he's missed something big.

Jigen looks down. His foot is handcuffed to the chair. "Awh, fuck me."

Lupin wiggles his eyebrows and pelts Jigen in the forehead with the collar-stay.

* * *

Jigen's forgotten about handcuffs by the time they've finished the score. The job went off without a hitch and they're both back in the little hotel room they call a hangout.

They clink their beers together and have a good laugh, then Lupin swears he hears a noise. Jigen gets up begrudgingly to check the emergency brace on the door hinge and the next thing he knows, he's cornered.

He's not sure how Lupin pulls it off but the _snap-zip_ of handcuffs is jarring considering his hands are above his head and the hinge is made of industrial-grade metal.

"Not funny, Lupin," Jigen growls as he pivots his body away from the door to face his giggling cohort.

"Oh, it's hysterical."

"No one's laughing."

"I can fix that." Lupin runs his fingers along Jigen's sides, tickling him. Jigen titters instinctively, and flinches away, his wrists slamming against the cuffs.

"Damn it, Lupin. Uncuff me."

"You want it? Come get it." Lupin holds up the key at arm's length.

"I'm chained to the friggin' wall, you putz!" Jigen growls and pulls the chain tight for emphasis. It rattles and remains. There's no way he can reach the key in Lupin's outstretched hands. 

Well, maybe an outstretched foot could reach the key. If he can untie his shoelaces without his hands, he may be half-way to freedom.

As Jigen starts toeing the shoe off his foot, Lupin slaps his free-hand over his eyes and buckles at the center in laughter. "What are you doing?"

"I'm losing it."

"You keep it in your shoes?"

Jigen sneers at his friend. "Fuck you, pal."

"If you insist." 

Lupin extends his tongue from his mouth and sets the key on his tongue. The hair on the back of Jigen's neck prickles as the key disappears behind Lupin's manic smile. 

Jigen's feet stop moving. His face falls as he realizes the prank has gone from zero to over-eighteen. "Oh, no."

Lupin wiggles an eyebrow at Jigen, a hint of silver between his teeth. Jigen watches in stunned silence as the man sidles up to him and places his hands on Jigen's hips. Jigen's head jerks back instinctively, thumping against the door, as Lupin rubs his nose against his.

It's not entirely unpleasant. Aside from the tingling in both arms from decreased circulation and the discomfort of a half-cocked leather shoe pressing against his heel, it's an agreeable arrangement.

If Jigen had use of his hands, he'd grab that monkey face and pry the key out with his fingers. Lupin would protest about how he wasn't any fun and, boy, their ideas of fun were as juxtaposed as ice-fishing and hot tubs.

Lupin parts his lips and runs the rounded edge of the key across Jigen's chin and mouth. "Jiiiigen," he teases in an unnaturally small voice, on behalf of the key. "Let me in, Jigen! I'm here to free you."

Jigen moves his head away from the metal pressing against his teeth. "Stop it."

"Take me, Jiiigen. Put me in the hole. Turn me until I snap."

"Oh, God, why."

"Take me, Jiii--" Lupin's eyes widen and the color instantly drains from his face. His throat bobs and his smile disintegrates into a petrified grimace. 

Jigen stares at him, his stern expression unchanged. "You swallowed it, didn't you."

Lupin's eyes glitter as he nods.

In retrospect, there's still the small question of how Jigen was expected to migrate the key from his mouth to his hands but Lupin is not bound by ordinary physics, or logic, like mortal men.

Jigen exhales, slowly. "You planned this, didn't you." 

Lupin's smile lifts at the corners. He nuzzles himself against the vulnerable gunman and presses a hand against Jigen's chest.

"You want me to pick the lock, don't you," Jigen surmises.

Lupin's eyes drift above the door and back down to Jigen's mouth. Jigen stretches upward, extending his toes for an extra inch, and feels a strip of tape on the hinge. He peels the tape back with numb fingers and discovers a collar-stay 

Jigen grumbles as he twists his sore wrists into position and slides the pick into the keyhole. He swallows, his fingers stiff and skin sweaty. The amount of sleep he'll get for the evening is directly reliant on how much practice he's put into his new skillset.

Picking a lock above your head, blind, is not something anyone but magicians practice. When Jigen has been practicing his lockpicking, the work has been in front of him, with all objects visible, and completely devoid of a man licking his ear.

"Say it," Lupin demands against Jigen's neck, his libido entirely unhampered by the flustered gunman about to throttle him.

"No."

"Say it. Say the magic words."

"Fuck you, pal."

"I'm working on it," Lupin whines, a low growl reverberating against Jigen's chest.

It really is quite a lot to think about. 

Jigen clamps his eyes shut, focusing on the lock, the hole, the pick. He can feel the resistance of the latch inside the keyhole, feel the too-wide collar-stay bumping against the sensitive pins of the lock. He can feel thin fingers weaving between the buttons of his shirt, a nail snagging against a hole in his undershirt, a fingertip stroking against his stomach.

Lupin's mouth lowers, his breath following his fingers, and Jigen can't hear anything but his own heartbeat and the blood rushing in his ears. His tongue feels thick, his fingers all but lost on the sensation of the pick in his grip. 

"Say it."

"Ah, hell."

Lupin squeezes him and he jumps. "Inny, sticky, turny, clicky! Inny, sticky, turny, clicky!"

The handcuff latch pops, releasing one hand. It's good timing, too, because the collar-stay slips from Jigen's fingers and pelts him on the head. 

The loose cuff slaps against the door hinge and sticks, creating just enough slack for Jigen to reach the stuck chain and free himself. He hasn't gotten that far, however: his newly-freed hand reaches down and grabs Lupin by the collar. He drags the man to his feet and kisses him fiercely. 

Lupin's hands coil around Jigen's tensed wrist then slide up behind the gunman's neck, his arms wrapping behind the man's head as he sinks into the embrace.

Jigen's tongue presses past Lupin's teeth and push against his tongue. He brushes against something cool and metal and his eyes widen. He can feel Lupin's smile widen against his cheeks.

Jigen breaks the kiss immediately. "You son of a --"

Jigen releases his grip on Lupin's collar and grabs his jaw. He stretches upward with his other hand and releases the opened cuff from it's wedged state in the jam, then fishes the key out of Lupin's mouth like a lion-tamer retrieving a shoe.

Jigen pockets the key and resumes kissing the man, switching positions to pin him against the door. This time Lupin breaks the kiss with a wicked smile. 

"Hey, Jigen?"

Jigen growls an unintelligible response.

"Never leave a job unfinished."

_Snap-zip._

* * *

It’s afternoon the next day before they leave the hotel. The sun’s setting by the time they’re driving out of the city. The top’s down on the convertible and Lupin has the passenger seat reclined all the way back, his arms folded behind his head. He might be snoozing; Jigen can’t tell if his eyes are even open behind the sunglasses.

Jigen adjusts the rearview mirror and thinks about the city vanishing on the horizon. There’s something nice about putting a city behind you and letting the wind whip through your hair after a sticky job. It’s just you and the road; silence and --

“Hey Jigen,” Lupin asks, a mischievous smile creeping across his face like a sunrise. “You _can_ break out of zip-ties, right?”


End file.
